Painting the Town Red
by A Million Raindrops
Summary: Drabble series! First chapter: Bloodbending. Korra had known the general concept, the circumstances necessary, the possibilities— but she could have never imagined this pure, unadulterated terror, so potent she would have preferred a knife in her gut.


**A/N:** Hello again, guys~!

This is from an anonymous prompt I got in my ask box on Tumblr: "Korra's first experience with bloodbending." I like it... probably my first shot at angst. Tell me if I did okay? :D

I think this will be the first in a collection of drabbles I'll just squish together. Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

She hadn't meant to.

She hadn't realized what was happening. Korra had been exhausted, drenched, and desperate, and she still was—her wounds were bleeding freely and her limbs ached with the swift jabs of a nimble chi-blocker.

She slumped against the brick wall of the darkened alley, her legs threatening to collapse against themselves. The merciless rain pelted every inch of her skin, chilling her through her bones. Through her dripping locks of hair, she stared as she held up her trembling palms, examining them with a sort of fascinated horror— what, exactly, had she just done…?

She looked to her right. Mako and Bolin were in no better shape than her, bloodied and drenched and laying on the ground not five feet away from her. Both of them were already staring at her unwaveringly. What was that in their eyes— confusion? Anxiety? …Fear?

In one instance the attackers were upon them, and in another the trio had been hurled against the rancid walls of downtown Republic City, the heavens above them paralleling the chaos on the earth as they struggled to hold their ground against almost fifteen of the Equalists.

It was a cold night, a miserable night— and also the night of the full moon. Katara had never taught it to her, and although 13-year-old Korra was rambunctious and stubborn, even she had known not to push the subject when her sifu's face melted into a pained grimace at the very mention of the word. She had looked utterly broken. But Korra had known the general concept, the circumstances necessary, the possibilities— but she could have never imagined this pure, unadulterated terror, so potent she would have preferred a knife in her gut.

Desperate, in a corner, Mako and Bolin down, with no choice left— Korra had taken control of one chi-blocker, not even realizing what she was doing until she heard the sickening twist echo off the hollow alley. For a few moments, Korra watched the chi-blocker as he twisted and bent in ways unimaginably inhuman— the marionette strings were in her hands. And then the scream pierced her ears, and her heart leapt out of her chest, and she dropped her arms so quickly she almost fell backwards onto the hard pavement.

The other Equalists had escaped. One lay on the ground directly in front of Korra, crumpled like a doll strewn on the floor. Her mind replayed the bloodcurdling shriek of the Equalist on the floor, Bolin's scream as electricity surged through his body, Mako slumping lifelessly against the wall her as the chi-blockers reigned down on him— she had to drown it out! She had to make the images disperse, disappear, vanish— _get out of my head_! Korra didn't know when she had started crying, but soon she realized the new screams were her own as she finally slid down the wall and curled into herself, forehead against her knees and hands clutching at her hair. "Get out!" she shrieked. "Out! I'm—" She gasped for air, her chest shuddering with sobs. "I'm _sorry_!"

Korra jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She started thrashing and struggling as she felt another envelop her other shoulder, fear clutching at her heart like a metal cage. "No!" Korra screeched. "I won't go with you! Leave me alone!"

"Korra!" Mako's voice was distinct as it resonated through the empty alley, hoarse but so powerful it stood out among the thundering of the heavens. Korra took a sharp inhale and opened her eyes, realizing how tightly she had closed them, realizing that the hands were Bolin's and Mako's, realizing that for now, they were safe. Hurt and defeated, but safe. Slowly, she looked at them; Mako looked exhausted but determined, concern lighting up his amber eyes through the thick darkness of the night. Bolin was not much different, clutching a nasty burn wound on his abdomen but holding Korra's shaky gaze with a steadiness that did justice to the nature of his element.

She sobbed. She let the arms encircle her, and she sobbed against them, her two most precious friends in the world. Her chest ached with the force of her sorrow, short, gasping breaths leaving her heaving chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely distinguishable above the rain, thunder, and her tears. "I am so sorry."


End file.
